


Soul-Linked

by KakunaBandit



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Aura Bonding, F/F, Multi, Past Blake Belladonna/Adam Taurus, Pollination, Pollination with Enabler, Polyamory, Soul Bond, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates get Cool Bonus Aura Perks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 19:50:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18017318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KakunaBandit/pseuds/KakunaBandit
Summary: Yang has three little soulmarks on her body. The black criss-cross on her neck is welcome - That link brings her mostly joy. The crystally-white smudge on her hip is annoying, and mostly brings irritation and disappointment. She wishes it would go away.And the little red rose petal on her ankle? Well. She's resolved to ignore it as long as it'll let her.





	Soul-Linked

Yang was 5 the first time she felt it, and realized what it was.

“Mom, mom! I was really sad and mad, but suddenly I felt happy coming at me, and also now my neck feels all spicy!”

Summer laughed aloud as the toddler craned her neck exaggeratedly, almost falling over in the process. “That, my little sundrop, is a soulmark!” She clapped her hands together, then knelt down to examine the tiny black criss-cross pattern more closely. “It's very pretty, you should check it out in the mirror!”

Yang jumped in place nervously, face alight with excitement, then rushed out the door. Summer could hear her knocking her way up the stairs. She flinched at the reverberating _thud_ that signaled her child had been running too fast and slammed into a wall, but sighed in relief as the pitter-patter continued at a pace only possible for the imminently uninjured.

Yang skidded into the bathroom, jumping onto a stool so her neck was visible over the counter. There it was – a purplish-black mishmash of lines, still too young to form the truly meaningful shape it'd take as it aged, but even so the fledgling brawler found it stunningly beautiful. She let out an uncontrollable squeal and leapt off the stool, sprinting back down the stairs. She planted herself at Summer's feet and grinned her biggest grin.

“Sooo? What d'ya think?” Summer raised an eyebrow in playful inquisitiveness, fighting back laughter at the giddy, utterly childlike excitement on display before her.

“It's sooo pretty! And so cool! What do I do with it?”

She let the laughter out, openly enjoying the girl's open-faced wonder. “Well, you feel it! That happiness you got earlier? That was probably your soulmate feeling happy.”

The toddler's eyes flew wide-open, teeth biting idly at her lip. “ _Soooo_ cool! Ooh, how do I make her feel happy the same way she did me?”

“Well, you probably already did! You seem pretty darn happy right now to me, and I bet your partner felt that too. But, why do you think she's a girl?” _That_ was interesting. Neither of Summer's own soulmarks had felt particularly gendered, and so she'd gone with popular assumption and figured they were guys. She'd never heard of anyone just knowing like that before.

“Oh, well... I dunno! The mark's just so pretty, and boys are gross, so, it's gotta be a girl right?”

“Oho?” A sparkle came dancing in Summer's eye. “I hope you aren't badmouthing your father, little one, because he _will_ hear about this.”

Little Yang stomped and pouted. “He doesn't count, duh!” Her pout only grew deeper, and funnier, as Summer's laughter rang on and on. And of course, when her second soulmark appeared two months later, Summer's knowing smirk and chuckle-filled explanation had smoothed over her confusion with ease.

* * *

 

It had been far too long since she'd heard her mother's laughter. She'd done her best to conceal her pain, misery, _loss_ from her links, but the constant wash of comfort and solidarity from one mark, and matching disdain from another, let her know her pain was very much felt on the other end. Even more aggravating was the appearance of a _third_ mark in the aftermath. She wished she could ask her mom about that, like she had the other two. She needed the reassurance. She needed to know that it didn't matter if Dad looked at it funny, like it shouldn't be there, like he didn't like it the way her mom definitely would.

She'd started occasionally getting pictures from the white dot on her hip. A popular logo, or a now-familiar stark-white bedroom. Music written on paper, with lyrics clearly marked in some unknown language. The same music, but at a different angle, or sitting on a piano. She didn't quite know what to make of it, except that the white dot never gave her good feelings, ever. Sometimes relief, but usually stress, or pain, or frustration. She wished it would go away, creepy rich-people bedroom and all.

Her trusty black hash-mark gave a variety of interesting emotions, though, and she loved it for it. Receiving an unexpected burst of cheer or triumph was always a pleasant surprise, and even the anger she often felt through that link was welcome in a world lacking Summer. Her first experience of Schadenfreude was through the black link – she thanked it for the new fun feeling to chase, the distraction from her father's distance, her own lack of direction or purpose, her sister's neediness.

And really, Ruby wasn't that big a problem. Yes, Yang found herself having to take care of her sister more and more as their father phased out of their lives and in absence of a mother. They had no parents at all, really, and so Yang had to fill that role. It was okay; She loved her sister, and her dad.

And Yang came to realize that her sister was weirdly perceptive of certain things. Like when Yang was having a bad day and her friends at school didn't seem to notice or care, but Ruby would either stay out of her way more than usual or be extra cuddly all day, whichever would be more helpful. Usually the girl's clinginess was annoying, but when Yang needed it, Ruby was always there to give. The girl was more than she deserved.

So when, one day, Ruby came asking about some strange, colored dots she'd started noticing around her body, Yang was hardly surprised. She grinned her biggest grin and showed Ruby the black crosses on her neck, and Ruby gasped in surprise. “Yaaang! We have matching crossies!” she squealed, tiny body flying into Yang's waiting arms. Then her eyes went wide with wonder and she pulled back, fingers fidgeting in her sister's shirt. “Does that mean we share a soulmate!? That's so coool!”

Yang's grin only grew wider and wickeder. “Don't worry, Rubes, I'll take greeeeat care of her by myself until you're old enough.”

What followed was a pout to end worlds, a whole new level of adorable that left Yang reeling in place. It truly was the a-pout-calypse. “Nnooo, no fair! You're only two years older than me, you have to share! Dad'll make you!”

“Well...” Yang muttered. She considered, for the first time, that if they shared _one_ soulmate, then maybe...

Ruby tilted her head to the side in confusion, eyebrows all scrunched up. Yang pushed her shorts down to expose her waist, and Ruby's confusion only grew until she saw the wiggly white dot dancing along her hip bone. She cheered and pulled her pants down in turn – to a chorus of “Ruby! Too far, too far!” - and revealed a near-identical little stain on her own skin.

“Okay, so we do share both of 'em! Great, I'll take the black, you can have the white?” she teased. Another pout, another halfhearted apology. “But really... I don't know how I feel about that one. So negative all the time, you know?”

“But Yaaang! That just means she needs us even more, duh!”

Of course the ever-altruistic little munchkin would take issue with that. “Like I said, you can have her.”

Ruby's nose scrunched in malcontent, and the unpleasant molasses of guilt came rumbling through Yang's chest. “She needs you too, right? Otherwise you wouldn't have the mark.”

Ever the responsible elder sister, Yang sighed in surrender. “Yeah, yeah, you're right. Or maybe I need her for something, I guess.”

“Yeah! We're in this together, Yang. Always!”

At the time, it was so easy to get swept up in her baby sister's enthusiasm, but even so, Yang never brought up that third mark. It was too scary to think about, and she figured Ruby would mention it someday, if that's what it really was.

She never did, and Yang never asked if Ruby had another mark. She never could quite steel herself hard enough, and didn't want to break the sisterly, definitely-just-familial love they already happily shared. She always wore long socks or boots, only ever taking them off in complete privacy, and never answered her friends' curiosity about it with more than a faked easy chuckle, or an excuse about a made-up embarrassing childhood injury.

Ruby, in turn, always kept her wrists covered, and Yang returned the favor of silence. If they were closer than most sibling then, well, it could be chalked up to life circumstances, or a particularly strong sisterly bond. They tried to convince themselves they were just really empathetic towards each other, and they ignored the periodic itches on their third marks. For Yang, that itch never left.

* * *

 

Weiss knew by instinct that her father would disapprove of any soulmarks beyond the first. When she got her second and third, she thanked her good graces that they were easy to hide, and that only the first was to be displayed in such a public spot. Her parents and sister had been so proud of those little black hashes, and Jacques had taken to proudly announcing the thing at all occasions, searching for the high-society socialite bearing the hereditary Schnee Snowflake soulmark.

Weiss was relieved they were never found. If they shared her other marks as well... Well, there'd be quite the scandal, and Weiss wasn't sure she'd even be allowed to meet her first soulmate, let alone the other two. Defying her father publicly was, of course, out of the question, and so she resolved to simply keep them a secret. She'd figure out what to do if and when she actually met them.

Years passed, and Weiss did her best to ignore and discourage contact from her extra marks. She could hide the itch she got when she felt them, but her personal tutors couldn't help but notice the painfully obvious mood swings. She chalked it up to stress and told them she would deal with it on her own – inevitably they would nod approvingly and move on.

Nevertheless, she couldn't help but vent some of that irritation outwards, and that included through her Marks. She could feel the expected disappointment coming back to her from Gold and Umbra, but far more intriguing was the strangely compassionate understanding that liked to flow out of her ankle-mark. She wished deeply to meet the person on the other end, if only to satisfy her curiosity about what kind of strange individual could maintain such childlike optimism for so long.

Meanwhile, she'd grown more and more discontent, cooped up in the same house all these years, learning the same boring things and entertaining the same boring people at the same utterly pointless social functions. So when her sister privately confided that she was leaving, Weiss couldn't help but understand.

“Winter?” Weiss slunk into her sister's bedroom, ever sparse but even more so now that she'd finished packing those meager personal assets that would be required for military life.

Winter spun around from where she'd been situated at her vanity, silently fixing her hair into a strict bun and releasing it, over and over. She set down her hair-tie and fixed her attention on her visitor. “Yes, sister?”

Weiss's gaze shifted to the floor. “I just... I won't get to be there when you leave tomorrow. I won't be able to see you off.”

Winter nodded, frowning. “Okay. I don't mind. You really shouldn't be missing your morning lessons, especially now that you're the heiress.”

“Right, exactly.” A deep, calming breath. “I just...” Her voice broke slightly, and for the first time in years she allowed her pain to show plainly on her face. “I just wanted you to know that I don't blame you. For getting out. Um, and I wanted to properly say goodbye.”

Winter's expression morphed into something foreign and unreadable, and she stood to walk behind Weiss, closing the door and sealing the two of them in their own private bubble. It had no lock to click, but nevertheless provided some small comfort, some sense of safety. Then and only then she let a silent tear run down her cheek.

“Thank you, Weiss.” And through those sorrowful tears, “If Father becomes too much for you too, you know where to find me.”

They embraced for the last time, and Weiss returned to her own stark, heartless bedroom to wish for sleep until morning.

* * *

 

Peaceful protesting was all Blake ever knew until Adam entered her life. He showed her a new way to beat their oppressors, but even before that, he was her first romance.

“Adam! Hi!” She grinned, waving over the crowded market streets at the boy who was presently sauntering up to meet her. “How was the meeting?” They'd arranged to meet in the afternoon due to his early-morning conflict, some secret planning session with the White Fang higher-ups. Blake was nothing but proud of her friend's growing list of accomplishments in support of Faunuskind.

“Blake, you know I can't talk about that stuff,” he playfully admonished. “I'm under oath, actually. Seriously, it's wild stuff. You should've come, if you were so curious!”

Blake frowned, ears twitching in unison. “Didn't you say it was, like, a top secret thing?”

“Well, yes, I did. But you're Blake Belladonna! If you'd showed up, I'm sure they wouldn't have minded.” Ahh, there was that casual confidence and honest flattery that always so easily ensnared her.

Blake's crush on Adam had come hard and fast – a surprise for all she'd ended up confiding in about it. Her soulmarks were all pretty easy to hide, but she let them shine for what they were. The Faunus of Menagerie felt no shame for their fated loves, and the prevalence of multiple marks among Faunus became a point of cultural pride for members of the fledgling White Fang lucky enough to have them.

Adam only had the one mark, so she couldn't be entirely sure they were Fated. But it _was_ purple, which nearly matched Blake's own aesthetic, and the soulmark on her ankle – the red rose petal – matched Taurus' own colors as well. It was easy enough for a child with a crush to rationalize a connection into being.

So of course she knew Taurus better than anyone. Her parents saw in him “A nice boy, but misguided;” But they couldn't feel that hopeful optimism, that childlike wonder and pure, innocent joy he was so often capable of feeling, but always hid under a smug or nihilistic veneer. Nobody was privy to his truest emotions like she was, nobody else could understand the inherent good inside of him which she could so very clearly feel.

She loved the person on the other end of that link, so she'd called him out here today.

“Yes, I'm a Belladonna, but that doesn't mean any of the higher-ups respect me much at all. They just think I'm an easy way to get to my father.” But Adam didn't think that at all. She'd received way too much support over their link to ever believe he thought so lowly of her.

“Of course. But I'm moving up pretty fast, and I'll put in a good word for you, okay? In fact, we work so well together... Perhaps we could be permanent battle partners.”

“You think so? I'd love that! Um, but actually, Adam?” Blake bit her lip and carefully looked over his face, searching for any hint of scorn or disquiet. Finding none, she continued. “Um, I was just thinking, we work together really well and not just in battle so, you know, maybe we could try being partners in something else too?” Her eyes flicked to the spot on his forearm where she knew his purple dagger soulmark was hidden under long, crisp sleeves, and she knew he caught the look by that adorable way he liked to scrunch his forehead.

“Blake, you think we're...?” His tone was mostly confused, but with a tinge of excitement, and the gentle reassurance she felt from her red soulmark prompted her to continue.

“Maybe? I mean, I think so, yeah. My ankle soulmark definitely seems like it could be you, and yours like it could be me.” She twisted her leg for emphasis, purposely displaying the tiny, red petal. “Unless you... already found your partner?”

Adam grinned. “Nope. Maybe you're right?” Blake's stomach fluttered, and her heart soared. “Either way, we could try and see. We do work well together, after all. Did... Do you want to call this a date then, Blake?”

She grinned, nodded, and leapt into his arms, squeezing him into a quick hug, then cautiously took his hand. She would never have even thought to say no.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my "RWBY doesn't have enough soulmate AUs or Pollination fics" Pollination Soulmate AU. Enjoy the ride ;)


End file.
